Old Times
by Sheep the Adventurer
Summary: The Goblin King, all powerful, handsome and all that jazz. But no one ever said he was good at maths. Truthfully, anyway. He returns, to find Sarah somewhat changed…
1. Chapter 1

**Old Times**

Chapter One

It had been two years. Or six years, or eight…? It had been long enough, decided Jareth irritably, and that was that.

He had plotted, he had schemed, he had conspired, he had connived, and he had looked in the thesaurus for more dastardly planning words. It was finally ready, his Revenge. It wasn't just plain old best-served-cold revenge, it was bona fide _Revenge_, that even deserved its own certificate.

Now Jareth didn't take being beaten lightly. In fact, as a child he had even sent one of his cousins to Outer Mongolia, when it had seemed they had come close to winning a game of scrabble. While he had pleaded that he had many cousins and one little one wasn't important, his parent hadn't been best pleased. Therefore, the point is Jareth is a sore loser. Some people sulk, and then get over it, maybe train to be better. Jareth had plotted/schemed/conspired/connived Revenge.

That whining little upstart, he thought viciously, calling his Labyrinth a piece of cake. Beating his elite Goblin fighting force (Jareth was somewhat blind to the failings of anything to do with him), and surviving the cleaners by destroying his masonry? It was time he took her down.

So, that's how it was, Jareth was chuckling to himself darkly, and the goblins were playing some variant of volleyball, without a ball (which entirely destroyed the menacing feeling, but as previously mentioned, Jareth didn't notice this).The throne room was its usual disordered self, with the obligatory presence of chickens and goblins (there was a wished away child, but seemed to permanently stubbornly remain asleep despite the persistent poking from the curious goblins therefore was boring).

Taking a break from his sadistic musings, he briefly conjured a crystal to check on the challenger running the Labyrinth. He was stolid man called Bill Parker, and Jareth believed him to be the least intellectual being he had ever met, not including the goblins.

The image in the crystal was showing Bill jumping up vainly to trying to get a hold on the tall walls around the Labyrinth. He was managing to ignore the fact there was a large door next to him. He stopped, and Jareth was almost relieved. Bill furrowed his brow, and stared at the wall for a good few moments. Then he began grimly jogging in the opposite direction from the door. Jareth's eye twitched. Alright, Bill Parker was the least intelligent being he had ever met, _including_ goblins. He pondered if he should include moss.

Shaking his head clear of those thoughts, he banished the crystal. He stood up magnificently; the goblins looked up in mild interest, expecting maybe a song. But they were disappointed when he merely smiled belligerently, and transformed into an owl. The barn owl swooped out of the window and into the starry sky.

It was time to take his Revenge.

* * *

As he crossed the boundary between the Underground and the Aboveground, he scanned for Sarah's consciousness. A fiery and stubborn yet dreamy sort of feeling with a certain unique edge. He would have grinned if his beak allowed him to, which…it didn't. That was why you don't see many smiling owls. However, anyone who saw him and was sensitive to the Underground wondered at the extraordinarily happy owl, and then shuddered for no particular reason.

He glided down into being over a quiet suburban street, lined with small bungalows. Dusk was silently being draped with the darkness of the night. Speck of stars were beginning show and a ghostly full moon rose over All Hallow's Eve.

He alighted on a nearby tree and searched for her aura. He found it, in a cosy looking house across the street. He mentally looked satisfied (owls can't look satisfied either, that's why they would be good at poker) and in the blink of an eye, he stood as himself in a dark hallway.

The silver moonlight cast shadows in his eyes. He moved with silent grace as the blue light from a room down the hallway shone weakly on the carpet, he moved closer.

He walked into the doorway without a sound. The sight that greeted him wasn't a shocked Sarah, it really rather banal, all evil plots considered.

A thin old woman sat dozing in a chair, while the television chattered lightly to itself and lit the woman's face with myriad colours, flickering with the seconds.

The ancient clock on the fireplace ticked sleepily and an aged dog regarded him wearily from a sprawl on the floor.

No sign of Sarah.

He searched mentally again, and he was sure, she was in this room.

The elderly dog wheezed and tottered over to him, the hairy specimen snuffled the bottom of his boots. It barked quietly. Everything seemed muffled.

The old woman awoke with a start, her skewed glasses hanging off her nose. "Gawain?" she muttered, clearly annoyed. She held out a withered hand and beckoned "Gawain?" she called in a sing song voice, not seeing the man in the doorway. The dog shuffled over to his mistress and she patted him absently "Good Gawain." She yawned "Oh dear, must have dozed off again. Not as if there's anything good on the television anyway. Damn, its dark." she clapped her hands. The lights flooded on and her glasses fell off

Jareth was in full view, she blinked at the figure blearily. "Who's there?" she questioned sharply, her body stiffening with tension. She clumsily slipped on her glasses and then _stared_.

"I'm not dead am I?" she asked candidly, after a moment. "Or hallucinating? You aren't supposed to be real."

He stepped forward cautiously, confused that she could see him. A dawning fear was beginning to grow in him.

She sighed and relaxed "I'm a crazy old woman Gawain. Just a crazy old woman." The dog yawned and lay down at her gentle tone. Her sad expression was etched with lines.

Her gnarled fingers twisted together in her lap.

Jareth came to stand near her. "Are you Sarah?" he asked softly.

She smiled a bitter half smile "Why yes, I am, Goblin King. Long time no see."

He frowned "How long…?" His chest suddenly felt heavy.

She answered without him having to complete his question "About sixty years."

It was official. Jareth, King of Goblins was very _very _bad at maths, or at the very least, forgetful.

He drew himself up to his full height, quashed all his tumultuous feelings with effort, deciding to stick to his original plan. "No matter. Sarah Williams I hereby challenge you to the Labyrinth…"

* * *

God KNOWS why I am starting yet another story. However, here I am with another one. An odd concept that my muse offered today...

Comments welcome (Read: Review. Now. Pretty please?)


	2. Chapter 2

**Old Times**

Chapter 2

Sarah stared at him in disbelief "I'm seventy six!" he cried. "How am I supposed to do that?"

Jareth frowned "Well you weren't supposed to be old!" he retorted.

Sarah rolled her eyes "And that's my fault? You're the one who messed up!"

Jareth sat down on a near overly soft chair, he spent an almost embarrassing moment flailing about until he saved himself from folding in two, and once in dignified position he cleared his throat "Time doesn't run the same here and the Underground. When you are immortal, forever isn't that long at all."

Sarah smiled sadly "Well, I'm only mortal as you can see."

Jareth inclined his head "You ruined it now." He said softly. "I can't, not now."

Sarah's eyes flashed "Don't you dare pity me." She hissed. "That's the last thing I want."

Gawain whined and the tense atmosphere was broken, she absently scratched behind his ears. Jareth was still looking vaguely shocked.

She appeared to be thinking, staring at the TV screen "I could do it." She announced suddenly.

Jareth, who had been watching her, snapped his attention to her words "Its impossible." He replied shortly.

She turned her green eyes on him "Why?"

He took refuge in what he knew, his lip curled in a sneer "Well, you said yourself, you are only mortal."

It took her a minute, but she managed it anyway, she stood indignantly. "Well, I'll just have to show what this old timer can do! Take me there! I'll beat your stupid Labyrinth! _Again!_"

Jareth took a lot less time getting up "In thirteen hours? I don't think so." he smirked. "But very well, it may be amusing to see you fail."

Sarah gave him the evils and turned her (lot less evil) attention to Gawain "Fetch! Go on boy, fetch my stick."

Gawain sat down heavily, panting at her. "Idiotic dog." Muttered Sarah and turned to get the goddamn stick herself. She was stopped by Jareth silently offering it in front of her.

She smiled one of her little smiles and took it from him with quiet thanks.

Looking reluctant, he swept an arm in front of the French windows. The Labyrinth lay at her feet.

Sarah paused. Jareth looked at her "Second thoughts?" he questioned.

"Better go to the toilet before I go. You know, answering the call of nature in the middle of the Labyrinth isn't easy when you're my age…"

Jareth cut her off by holding up his hand "I get it."

She began to shuffle towards the door (presumably the bathroom), suddenly she stopped "Am I at least older than you?"

Jareth turned his head to look at her "No."

She began to walk again "Damn."

She returned presently after a few minutes, during which Jareth had felt very confused watching a program on the magic box about gardening.

"Right, I'm good to go. Come Gawain!" she said cheerfully.

And they stepped into the Labyrinth.

Sarah studied the dusky landscape "Its different." She said, almost in a whisper.

Jareth stood beside her, dressed to match the shadowy half-light. The light was golden but without warmth, the light of a setting sun.

"Its hard to explain. The Labyrinth…is a kind of reflection of the Aboveground, of the beliefs, hopes and fears of mortals. Mostly of children, but some of adults too." He said quietly. "It changes, just like people."

She looked up at his profile as he stared out over his domain. "And you?" she asked in a whisper.

He turned to look back at her "I am dreams, and I am nightmares." He said shortly. "I am the Goblin King."

Sarah was silent but spoke after a moment "Thirteen hours, then." She said awkwardly.

Jareth nodded, he seemed to be feeling thoughtful "Starts now. You know the story…Good luck."

He disappeared.

Sarah sighed heavily and looked down at Gawain, who was snuffling the green grass that blew in the slight breeze. "Gawain. I am stupid. I'm seventy odd, what was I thinking?" she groaned. Her bloody temper, that, and an inability to keep her mouth shut.

"Ah well," still speaking to the dog, who was in no danger of answering anytime soon. "I'd better get started."

She stepped briskly with the support of her stick down to the walls. They were covered in some sort of ivy, however most ivy didn't have feline eyes. Sarah approached it cautiously and reached out a hand towards it. A tendril of ivy lashed out and swiped at her hand, the thorns left four thin scratches on her hand. "Ouch!" she cried and snatched her hand back. She glared at the cat-ivy thing, it promptly began to shift smugly.

Gawain rushed up to his mistress and began to bark at the wall energetically in a winded sort of way.

"Shut up Gawain. Hush, damn it dog!" Sarah said, annoyed.

The ivy hissed and suddenly retreated to the top of the wall, revealing a small door. "Oh." Said Sarah, surprised. "Good dog."

He sat down on his haunches and panted in satisfaction at a job well done.

She entered the door and entered what seemed to be a forest clearing. A tranquil pool lay at the centre. Old trees stood in the quiet stillness, surrounding them.

Sarah looked around her warily, Gawain whined at her feet. "I am not going to trust that pool…So…I should go into the forest, I guess." She said, half to herself.

She set off hesitantly, skirting the sides of the clearing, not daring to go near the centre. She slipped through a gap between the large trees, treading on the soft moss underfoot.

Only to appear back in the clearing, although the wall had gone.

"Ah." She murmured succinctly. She began to take small steps towards the pool "It's the same one…" She stood by the edge and dipped the stick in it with trepidation. She took it out just as a thin dead hand reached out of the water. It grabbed at empty air and then slid beneath the water with hardly a ripple.

Sarah screeched and stumbled backwards, never taking her eyes off the pool. Gawain whined louder and still moving backwards, Sarah tumbled out of the forest into some gardens.

She gasped and landed on her rear, her heart still pounding at the encounter. She clutched her stick and stood up slowly, muttering to herself "Get up, get up!"

"Ooof!" Finally she stood up again. "That, my canine friend, is a sight I would never like to see again." She remarked, as she began to calm down. Gawain wheezed.

"Changed your mind yet?" a disinterested voice sounded.

Sarah looked round at the man behind her "Not yet."

Jareth stood a few metres away, arms folded. "I see you just met The Witch's Pool."

She sighed heavily "Nice name for a nice place."

* * *

This story is odd, it just keeps switching genres dammit…And Sarah keeps talking to a dog! 

Anyway thanks to Kadasa-Mori, Jedi-Ashes1021, Arin Ross (10 times over ;p), Lady of the Labyrinth, Solea, DemonicSymphony, Dark Angels and Ash Phox!

Anyway please be so good as to review (and have patience with the weird style!)

Sheep the adventurer


End file.
